


Scientists and Death Scythes

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Humor, M/M, Romance, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 13:25:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revolving a post-anime around the building relationship between Stein and Spirit. Prepare for dissection...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beware Those You Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Now with 20% less suck!
> 
> Originally uploaded to Fanfiction.net under the title "Scientists and Death Scythes, Weapons and Technicians," this was my longest work at 7,920 words, and included a completely unnecessary prologue and opening chapter. AO3 version has actual page breaks, but all the pointless Japanese present in the original. I was young.

  “Are you sure you wanna do this, Maka?” Soul clarified, hands in his leather jacket pockets as he followed her down the street.

  “I have to see him. I have to talk to him and see if there’s anything I can do, or if I can just be someone to talk to, like Marie-sensei was.” she replied, a determined expression branding her face as she approached the stitched-up home.

  “What if there is something wrong with him and he decides to dissect you? You know you can’t fend him off. Then what?”

  “Then… I’ll be dissected. He won’t kill me, I know he won’t, and it might even make him better. If that’s what it takes, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Maka, you’re out of your mind. I’m coming with you.” her weapon decided. The ash blonde simply stopped.

  “Stay here. This is something I have to do.”

  The purpose in her voice was sharp. God, when she had her mind decided there was no way in hell she would change it. The white-haired boy sighed and conceded “Alright. But if anything goes wrong, just yell. I won’t let anything happen to my meister.”

  She nodded with a small sound of acceptance and turned, her coat flicking out to the side and then began to sway as she trotted to the imposing and dark home. Once on the stoop she clenched a fist and rapped it against the door a number of times before it simply creaked open itself. The newly realized weapon stepped in, pulled the barrier shut behind her and called “Stein-hakase?” She was met only with silence and darkness before she flipped the light on. Apparently the professor hadn’t quite yet realized Marie Mjolnir was gone, as the couch was still pink and now-rotting flowers sat in multi-coloured vases. “Stein-ha~kase~?” Well, he was bound to be in his laboratory, so she traveled down the dim hall and knocked on the next door. Again, she was responded with only silence. “Stein-hakase!” Maka swore she could identify the sound of his chair squeaking as he shifted. One more knock before she swung open the stitched door to peer inside.

  As she suspected, there perched the instructor on his classic rolling chair; the only light radiated from the desk lamp, casting a formidable shadow from his silhouette as a wisp of smoke wafted off his cigarette. She gathered up her breath and switched the overhead light on, stepping into the windowless room and gingerly shut the entryway. “Stein-hakase.” she summoned a bit more forcefully as the notion that she has entered the lair of a sleeping beast arose in her mind and became enveloped in the fear that this well-meaning visit had awoken it and she would soon become its rebirthing meal.

  He remained still for another moment, then straightened up as the curl of smoke formed into a skull, then drifted away. “Oh.” he replied monotone. “Maka. What do you need?”

  “I…” She stopped her words, discerning how foolish ‘I wanted to see if you were okay’ would sound, but decided it best to be truthful. “I… Just came to check on you.”

  He tilted his head back and looked over his shoulder, the glare white off his glasses, but she could see expressionless and unreadable eyes under them. “You don’t have to worry about me. It’s not up to you to control my madness, that’s me to do. Shouldn’t you be writing a report for me?”

  “Finished.”

  “Of course,” he pressed one foot to the ground, twisting his chair around to face her, “you are a model student.” The white-haired man rested his chin on his arms, crossed on the back of the chair. “So, what is this model student doing at a teacher’s home in the middle of the night, alone?”

  “Er…” The ash-blonde rubbed her hand on the back of her neck. “I guess that does sound bad…”

  The scientist smirked, then went on. “At least Soul is still outside.”

  “He is?”

  “Of course. Did you really think a weapon like yours would leave you here alone?”

  “I guess not…”

  “Didn’t your Soul Perception pick up on that?”

  “I just, wasn’t paying attention.” she admitted with a shrug.

  “Idiot.” he growled as she jerked a little, putting her hands behind her back. “Haven’t you learned anything? Always be ready, always be aware. You are the most promising meister of the year so you will be the first called into action. If you aren’t alert you will be killed. Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes Hakase. I’m sorry.” she apologized, clasping her hands in front of her and bowing.

  “Relax.” He leaned his head back and took a long breath, filling his lungs with nicotine before snuffing out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on his desk. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

  “Well…”

  “If you want to ask something, go ahead. If I don’t want to tell you, I won’t answer.”

  “Well… I was just wondering… When you went to see Medusa… Did you really go willingly?” she wondered and wrung her hands.

  “Did it look like I didn’t?”

  Her hands hung down at her sides as a confused and mildly appalled appearance crossed her face. “Are you saying that we rescued you when you hadn’t even been kidnapped!?”

“I wasn’t kidnapped, but I did need rescuing. You see, I was taken by the madness. My mind wasn’t even there with you, I was in some alternate dream world trying to sneak past a guard dog with an awful resemblance to your father and conversing with myself at a younger age. I do remember that a radio buzzed with static and Medusa convinced me it had to be destroyed. I wasn’t even aware that Marie hadn’t committed suicide by jumping off my roof until we engaged in battle, but I could still only hear Medusa’s voice over the static until Marie used her healing wavelength. …That reminds me, you need to manage your anger. Your anger controls you like my madness controls me.”

  “…What are you talking about?”

  “When you thought Crona was dead you let your anger take over and fought carelessly. If Marie hadn’t have jumped in, you would have killed me. Do you remember?” He gave her a moment to comment, but was met with silence so he went on. “Though it might be a good thing.” the scientist mentioned as he spun his chair around to face away from her again. “You were prepared to kill me in defense against my current actions, no matter that I am your teacher. My title didn’t matter, only my behaviour. That could come in handy.”

  “…What do you mean?”

  “I may not be hopelessly insane like before, but you know that I am naturally more dangerous than most. If I do snap, I am trusting you personally to do whatever it takes to stop me, Maka.” he stated unmistakably.

  She blinked her plain green eyes, mouth hanging open slightly. “No! I can’t do that, there’s no reason I can’t-”

  “Maka! I need to know that I can trust you with this. You can do anything you please to bring me back, but as a last resort, I need to know that you will place others’ wellbeing above defending me. Can you do that?”

  “…H-Hai, Hakase.”

  “Good.” the white-haired man accepted, reaching under his stitch white coat and removed a cigarette and lighter, placing one in his mouth and lit it, then replaced the unneeded item back in the inside of his coat.  “So, how is your father? Have his injuries healed correctly?”

  “I-injuries?”

  “Yes. When he and Shinigami-sama fought Kishin Asura they both sustained mortal wounds. Of course Shinigami have amazing regenerative abilities, but I worry for Spirit-senpai.”

  “Papa’s… hurt?” ‘Why didn’t he tell me? He would usually use something like this as an excuse for my attention, why not now?’ “…How bad is it?”

  “I was almost certain he wouldn’t make it, but Senpai is stronger than I thought. He pulled through and was on his feet within the day. He should make a full recovery, but I would still like to check. I’ve asked him over many times to see, but he stays as far from me as possible.”

  She nodded and glanced to the clock. “It’s getting late and Soul still needs to do his report. I should go.”

  Stein nodded and swiveled round, light smoke curling around him. “I hope that answers your questions. I’ll be seeing you.” he dismissed with a slight smile. The student and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her as the grin disappeared and the scientist reached up for the bolt in his cranium with a sigh. “I suppose I won’t be dissecting her…”

 

  
  


_Tk-tk-tk-tk.  Tk-tk-tk-tk.  Tk-tk-tk-tk…_

_…Click!_

 


	2. Dare Not Say

“Pumpkin, pum-pum, pumpkin, pum-pumpkin!” Blair chanted as her drink refilled; she snatched it up and took a sip, leaning over the bar as her tail twitched boredly. The magical cat currently in human form sighed and darted her bright yellow eyes back and forth, then whined again, pointing the ears she had kept out to appear cuter backward and pouted. The purple-haired girl stood and pranced out of Chupa Cabra’s on the way to see ‘Fish Shoppe Guy’ as she so affectionately referred to him as, but once out the door she stopped, noticing her ash-blonde roommate tapping her foot furiously as she apparently waited for someone. “Hm? Maka-chan? Who are you waiting for?”

The meister opened her mouth to respond, eyes shut, arms crossed and teeth gritted. “My… Papa.” she sneered the word.

The feline tilted her head, arms held girlishly out at her sides. “Meow? You’re waiting for Papa?”

“It’s not like I want to see him! I just have to ask him something…”

“Hm? Well okay then. See you soon Maka-chan!” She beamed and bounced off (and boy did she bounce…).

Maka Albarn stood tapping her foot for a few more minutes; the second Spirit was off work he would certainly be on his way here to flirt and try to lure unsuspecting women with low self-esteem into bed, so he should be here soon. Speak of the devil, there he was, skipping along the Death City street towards his favourite bar and sporting a doofy grin, but that smile soon disappeared as he became aware of his disapproving daughter waiting directly in front of him. “M-Maka-chan! I didn’t expect to see you here!” The beam reappeared as he ran to his kin, arms outstretched for a hug, but his attempt was thwarted by a swift Maka Chop, forcing him onto his knees.

“I’m not here to socialize with you. I just need to ask you a favour.” She replaced the book in her coat and crossed her arms as her red-haired father got to his feet, sliding his hands in his pockets again.

“Sure thing Maka-chan! Anything you want!”

“Go see Stein-hakase.”

“-Except that! No, I absolutely cannot go see him! He’ll dissect me again, I just know it!”

“Just do it.” Maka ordered, somehow able to be intimidating while she looked nearly straight up at her father.

“But MAKA-!”

“He just needs to check your injuries. Suck it up and get it over with. He’s expecting you at the lab tonight at seven.” she stated concisely, clenching her fists at her sides as she backed away slightly, turning to leave, but she stopped for some reason and spoke over her shoulder. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me you were hurt…” With that she stomped off, leaving the flirtatious man to shake his head and smirk.

“That’s my girl…”

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“What the hell… am I doing here!?” Spirit shouted at himself, tearing into his crimson locks as he stood on the crisscrossed grey stone porch he knew belonged to a madman and debated pressing the doorbell. “He’s gonna take one look at me and cut me open, right there! Agh!” he cried and spun to face the street, gritting his teeth. “I should just go…” He buried his face in his hands, but then something hit him as he snapped upright and clenched one fist in front of him. “No. I’m doing this for Maka! Yes, I’ll risk dissection for my darling little MAKA! You hear that Stein!? No dissecting Spirit today!”

“We’ll see about that.” a monotone voice interrupted his soliloquy; Death Scythe jumped nearly three feet and flailed, spinning around on the foot he didn’t have raised in the air simply because it was reflex. In the doorway sat Franken Stein, perched contently on his rolling chair. He was somehow managing to scare the weapon half to death with a simple blank look, even though he had to look directly upwards to make eye contact; it was a nice change for the Death Scythe to be looking down on his now-taller ex-meister. One of Albarn’s blue/grey eyes twitched as he snapped back to his proper self, straightening his tie and attempting to return to a respectable character after his outburst, but Stein only blinked. “Keep talking to yourself and people will think you’ve gone mad. Now come on, I‘ve been waiting forever.” he led, turning and rolling into his residence as the slightly older man followed down the hall into the actual laboratory; he too noticed the feminine touched to the place that remained. Once inside the white-haired man flicked on the light hung over a metal table, closed the door behind him and- much to the other man’s worry- locked it.

“W-Why did you lock the door?” the weapon stammered apprehensively, eyes darting around the windowless room. On one wall sat a desk with his computer, on another wall was a bookshelf covered in medical textbooks, research journals, test tubes and such. On the third wall was a table set with beakers of varying shapes, some empty, some filled, with a rack behind it, covered in scalpels and needles and other things he dared not think about. Damn; if it came down to it the only way out was that door directly in front of him, now locked.

The doctor sighed, tilting his head back as the light in the centre of the ceiling caught his glasses. “Nobody knocks. Even students just walk right in. My doorbell hasn’t been used in ages…” He shook his head then motioned with it to the metal table he had certainly used for dissection before in the middle of the room, skating over to the most frightening of the walls and removing only the most intimidating of instruments from the rack and setting them on a tray. Spirit reluctantly backed against the metal, keeping an eye on the doctor, then hopped on and pressed his hands together and rubbed them, hoping to fend off the cold he had felt since he walked in the damned place.  “Go ahead and take off your shirt.” the slightly younger man brought up, prompting the scythe to yank off his cross-shaped tie and unbutton the olive green dress shirt he wore to work every day. Underneath the garment he had a white bandage wrapped around his torso and over his shoulder; Stein rolled back over, the freestanding metal tray covered in surgical tools in tow. He scanned the selection and chose a pair of surgical scissors, then reached forward as Spirit began to shake and snipped off the bandages.

“Relax,” Stein exhaled, “I promise, no dissecting.” ‘Tonight…’ he mentally added, removing the dressing as he examined the wound visually. Sutures still lingered on his bruise-patched torso, holding together a wound that had mostly healed, but deeper sections still remained open slightly, and worse, parts were tinged yellow. “It’s infected. Lay down and I’ll take care of it.” he stated as his patient warily complied and fidgeted as Stein rolled to the end of the room that alarmed Spirit the most and shuffled through the implements, though which he selected and strode back over with the weapon couldn’t tell from his horizontal position.

Death Scythe swallowed hard as he knew Stein was now standing over him, but squinted up at the overhead light illuminating the otherwise dark room and curled his toes inside his shoes, trying to fight back memories from years ago.  He gasped once he noticed the sharp pain of a needle in his abdomen and began babbling “I knew it, I knew you were going to dissect me, that’s it, I have to go I have to-!”

“-Senpai!” the white-haired scientist broke through, leaning over his old friend in an attempt to calm him as he removed the syringe, though he was even more terrifying as a silhouette with the light glaring behind him.

“Oh no!” Spirit refused and thrashed to no avail as his junior pushed one hand firmly on his chest to hold him down, irritating the bruises. “Ow!”

“Stop moving and it won’t hurt.” he assured. “That was just a local anesthetic. You don’t want to feel it when I cut out the infection, do you?”

‘Don’t say ‘cut’.’ “Well, I guess not…”

“Then shut up and relax.” he ordered, lifted his hand off his cautious subject and retrieved a scalpel and gauze from the tray beside him and began picking out the numbed and discoloured flesh. The scythe stared intently at his doctor to avoid the strain on his neck (and mind) of lifting his head only to see parts of his body removed. The scientist worked diligently, his dark green eyes focused and mildly interested, but otherwise blank; or at least from what Spirit could discern from glimpses of his eyes when the thick lenses in front of them didn’t catch the light. He was so emotionless, so empty all the time and it was damn near impossible to tell what he was thinking. He was entirely devoted to his studies as if nothing else was of consequence but furthering his knowledge; that included his friendships and his own appearance. The stitches on his face and the unmistakable bolt through his head, plus some of the long-faded scars on Spirit’s own body were a few examples of his lack of interest in anything but research.

Stein’s hands were cold; they always were. For some reason or another his every touch was cold. He felt like a corpse. Maybe he was a corpse; a cold, empty, uninterested cadaver. Yes, empty; that word suited him. Spirit had tried many times throughout their younger years to see past the man’s blankness and to his core, but after a while he realized that maybe, Stein was just empty inside. When he would dig under the formerly unscathed skin that had now been crossed with black threading he would only get a few feet before he hit the cold metal of an operating table. He was emotionless and incapable of feeling; it was pitiful really. He would never know love; maybe that would explain why he didn’t feel for Marie. …Wait, did he even know about Marie’s feelings? “…Stein?”

“Hm?” he acknowledged, not looking up as he wiped the gauze over the wound.

“Did Marie… tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“How she feels?”

Stein set down the scalpel and gauze, turning his attention to Spirit’s face as his glasses glared and hid the expression in his eyes, though his eyebrows insinuated their usual blankness. “You mean that she loves me?”

“Er, yeah.”

“Yes, she told me. As she was leaving, like an afterthought.”

“Oh. Are you… okay?”

He blinked and tilted his head, shifting the shine off his glasses and proving his Senpai’s theory. It was irritating how well he hid emotions; well, that is, if he had any. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well the girl you were living with confessed her love and bailed.”

“It wasn’t my choice to live with her, she practically invited herself and turned the place into a flowery hell. I’m glad she’s gone.”

“Then why haven’t you cleaned out her stuff?” Death Scythe asked knowingly with a smirk and raised brow.

“I have better things to do with my time.” he answered and went back to work.

“-But did you love her?”

“Of course not. She was a bother.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t love her. You can’t choose who you love.”

“Yes you can. If you fall in love with someone you dislike, just avoid them until that feeling goes away.”

“Stein, you obviously know nothing about love.”

“…Perhaps.” he responded and leaned over his subject to bite off the end of a thread Spirit didn’t realize he had been suturing with. “You’re done. Sit up.”

“Have you ever been in love?” the red-haired man wondered, sitting on the edge of the table as Stein wrapped his cleaned injuries in a fresh set of bandages.

“…Once.” he admitted, reluctant to give up the information for a number of reasons, one of which being the fact that he simply didn’t want to continue the pointless conversation.

“Really?” Spirit gaped, both his eyebrows rising as the tiniest hint of a grin twitched at one corner of his lips. “What happened?”

“I avoided them until the feeling disappeared.”

“You know what Stein?” Death Scythe began, giving in to the urge to smile as he pulled his shirt over the new set of dressings and laced the buttons together, snatching his tie off the counter and stuffing it in his pocket. “I wish that you would fall hopelessly in love one of these days.” He held contact with the vacant green eyes for a moment, then slung his suit jacket over his shoulder. “We do this again in a week, right?”

“Yes.” the white-haired man agreed, falling onto his chair and nodding as Spirit waved and let himself out. He removed a cigarette and lighter from their respective pockets, put them both to use and replaced one. He took a long drag and let the smoke out again with a sigh. “You have no idea…”

 


	3. Lament for Dead Memories

“So,” a carefree voice bounced giddily, “how are you feeling, Spirito-kun?”

“Great. Stein got rid of the infection and now I feel good as new!” he replied, slurping his tea.

“And no dissecting?” Shinigami-sama questioned with a slurp.

“No dissecting!” Slurp.

“Good. How is Stein-kun?”

Death Scythe placed his cup on the low skull-shaped table he was leaning beside. “He’s a little better. If we keep this up, he should be back to normal in no time. Or at least, as normal as Stein gets. He just needs to socialize.”

The Death God set down his drink as well. “Is that really it?”

“Huh?”

“Have you thought that maybe it isn’t that he’s seeing people, but who he’s seeing?”

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“But Shinigami-sama!” the red-haired boy pleaded, kneeling before the Death God.

“Not ‘buts’ Spirito-kun. You want to be a Death Scythe, right?”

“Of course, but-”

He was cut off by an oversized white glove smacked over his head. “Didn’t I just say no ‘buts’? Anyway, I haven’t had a Death Scythe that’s an actual scythe in a while, and my persona weapon is retiring soon. I want you to be my next weapon! So, you’re gonna need a strong meister!” he exclaimed with a grin, or so the eyes of his mask implied.

“Yeah, but aren’t there any strong girl meisters?”

“Of course there are, but our strongest meister just-so-happens to be a boy, and I want you two to pair up!”

“…Isn’t that favouritism?”

“Yes, it is! He’s a German boy named Franken Stein and he’s waiting in your roo~m!” Shinigami giggles, changing the subject.

“Are you even sure we’ll resonate?” Spirit whined, beginning to pout.

“Oh, you’ll resonate,” Shinigami assured, “he can resonate with anyone that interests him, and he’s gonna lo~ve you!”

The fifteen-year-old sighed, finding it best not to argue with a god. “Yes, Shinigami-sama.”

He bowed graciously and walked off, down the halls and towards the dormitories. He did his best to arrive as quickly as possible, avoiding the majority of girl-watching he would usually partake in. He stood and grimaced in front of his own room, drew in a breath, slid his key into the lock and turned, pushing open the door. Everything looked pretty normal, though the door to the extra room where his partner would sleep was closed; the weapon stepped over to it and knocked lightly.

“I’m busy.” a muffled, monotone voice replied, just a few pitches higher than his own; he was probably slightly younger.

Spirit raised a crimson brow and entered. There sat a boy, just a little smaller and younger than his new partner, though with oddly white hair, making him appear much older. He wore all white and appeared rather enthralled with something on his desk; Spirit couldn’t tell what, his back was turned.

“I said I was busy. I assumed you would understand that meant I wanted you to keep out.” he stated, spinning the stool he sat on to face his elder. Spirit’s blue/grey eyes grew huge as he noted the chilling emptiness in his new partner’s jade orbs, more-so from the crimson splatters on the front of his white uniform. A mauled rodent rested on a metal tray with pins sticking out of its carcass, body cavity wide open while Franken held a small surgical knife over it.

“Oh… my GOD!” Spirit screamed, disgust and fear obvious on his young face; the thirteen-year-old simply blinked.

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“Are you sure we can take him?” Spirit wondered nervously, hiding behind his meister as Stein peeked around the corner of a cinderblock building.

“Don’t let his appearance fool you. It’s a very low-level Kishin.”

“But… What if we can’t take him? We can’t afford to lose all the souls we’ve colle-”

“Stop it,” Stein interrupted, holding out his hand, “You have to trust that I’m stronger than that.”

“But-!”

“Senpai.”

He glanced over his shoulder at his junior in an almost… warm gaze.

“Trust me.”

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“You’re an idiot, Senpai.” Stein snapped, hoisting his weapon’s limp human form onto the kitchen counter.

The sixteen-year-old tried to sigh, but that only incited a coughing fit, phlegm and blood flying until he found his mouth covered by a white dish towel Stein tossed at him as he continued rummaging through the drawers. “Wh-bleck!-What was I su-pposed to d-do!? K-Kami couldn’t have taken that K-Kishin without D-Derek! I-I had to h-help!” he managed to stammer out, moving the now red-dotted towel to blot the wounds on his torso.

“Shut up. You knew she couldn’t have won, even with you. You should have run, but you want to be the hero, swoop in an save the day. Even if that meant risking your life…” his meister muttered, setting a needle and monofilament on the counter beside him as he ripped open Spirit’s shirt. It was already torn and blood-stained, so he didn’t bother to unbutton his shirt carefully; he just ripped it open. The younger boy threaded the fishing line through the needle and began working it though Spirit’s gashes.

The crimson-haired boy gulped back the mixture of blood and saliva that had collected in his mouth to suppress a coughing fit (and his urge to say he would have done the same for Stein). “…So?”

Stein ceased suturing, tilting his head slightly as his glasses caught the light. “So?”

“So, what if I had died?”

“What.” the green-eyed meister hissed, his voice remaining completely monotone.

“What if I died? What would it matter? You could resonate with anyone, you don’t need me. A few of my friends would miss me, but you kind of killed my social life. What would it matter if I died?”

“Don’t say that.” Stein ordered emotionlessly, though the second the words met air, they sparked back to life feelings he had long-since killed. Spirit shot a glance into his partner’s eyes, their usual blankness replaced by frantic anger, though his voice insinuated only fury. “Don’t fucking say that, Senpai! I saved you, didn’t I!? As long as you have me, there’s absolutely no reason for you to die!” he shouted, pointing the needle in Spirit’s face, though it was still tethered to his body.

The weapon grinned; Stein had fallen for it. “I didn’t know you cared so much, Stein-ku~n!”

Jade eyes blinked, turned confused, faded back to being entirely empty, and hid behind glinting glasses. “I don’t care, Senpai. I don’t feel. I just can’t have you dying before I get to study a Death Scythe.”

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“…Oh my God… It’s me.” Death Scythe realized, wide-eyed.

Shinigami sweat-dropped. “Wow, you really are dense.”

 


	4. Finality of Acheivement

A hand stretched out to grasp the doorknob. Spirit let out a breath.

“Okay. I’m doing this. I’m just going to go right in there and tell him. Yup. No Death Scythe for Stein. Nope. Not a chance. Okay. Let’s do this.” he psyched himself up, though his efforts didn’t make him move.

“I am turning the doorknob.” No change. “I am turning. The doorknob... Dammit.” he muttered in defeat, and huffed out a breath. “Why is this so difficult? I just have to go in there and tell him I’m not interested. Real quick. Simple! I’ve got nothing to be afraid of! Well, except what he’ll do to me if I make him mad. Or just give him to opportunity...”

His face dropped as he cringed at repressed memories. “But it’s okay! This is the DWMA! It’s a classroom! He wouldn’t do anything in a classroom! Or... would he...?” He shook the thought from his mind and tore into his hair.

“Agh! I don’t know! No matter what I do, it could go wrong. If I go in, he could take it bad and... and...” He didn’t dare complete the sentence. “But if I don’t, he might make a move, and then we could never be friends again! He’s my best friend! Well, my only friend. I just-!”He cut off his own thoughts and slumped against the door, sliding to sit on the floor and stretch his legs. “I just want things to stay like this. No dissecting. No awkwardness. Just... friends.” The scythe ran his fingers through his hair and forced a little smile. “Friends don’t get jealous if you cheat on them. Friends don’t break your heart. Friends don’t lobby for sole custody...”

Squinting his eyes shut, Spirit let out a sharp breath. “I can keep a friend a hell of a lot longer than I can keep a wife. If I’d just stayed friends with Kami, this wouldn’t be an issue. Maybe I should just stop trying to make relationships. Everything stays casual. Yeah, that’ll solve it.

“But I... I just want to be happy.”

Suddenly his breath was forced out of him as Spirit’s body was heaved forward and crumpled on the floor.

“Oh. Senpai. I thought I heard something.”

“Dammit...” Death Scythe groaned, rolling onto his back and squinting up at the meister in the doorway.

“Why are you out here, anyway?”

The red-haired man gulped and shot up, already rambling. “N-n-n-nothing! Nothing at all! Nothing of importance, really, just uh... just this teeny little thing I wanted to talk to you about, but it’s nothing, really, forget I was here, nope, not he-”

“-Shut up, Senpai.” Stein sighed, and the elder obeyed, drawing his mouth closed. “Good. So what’s bothering you?”

“N-nothing!”

Franken blinked before latching onto the cross-tie and dragged his old weapon to his feet and into the classroom.

“S-stein? What’re you doing?”

“Obviously, I’m going to dissect you.” he said, stopping to glance over his shoulder.

Spirit summoned the blades in his arms, about to slice his tie and dart, but he noted the growing smirk on his junior’s expression and the subtle tremors in his shoulder, and realized he was stifling a laugh. With a sigh, the blades retreated. “You jerk.”

“You don’t mind.” Stein laughed, a repressed sound.

Death Scythe rolled his eyes. “You’re right...” he replied, following Stein in.

The professor locked the door behind them (and Spirit had to remind himself that’s just something Stein does when he wants a private conversation- nothing creepy, just privacy) and kicked his rolling chair to Spirit, leaning against the desk himself. “Honestly, what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing’s bothering me, Stein! See? Not bothered!”

“Senpai, I know when you’re lying. You’re awful at it. Not to mention you’ve been acting weird.”

“Weird? Pffft! Weird how!?” Spirit shooed, leg shaking.

“For example, you’ve been avoiding me, and when we’re in the same room, you find a reason to leave as quickly as possible. You didn’t seek treatment, your daughter had to set up an appointment, and you don’t say a word, knowing I’m losing my mind, knowing you’re the only that left holding me together. Oh, and I just found you outside my office door, trying to work up the courage to come talk to me.”

“...So you heard that?”

Stein didn’t respond.

“You’re losing it?”

“I never had it.”

“Then what’s different now?”

He retrieved a cigarette from his coat, but remembered to make eye contact. “I used to have you. Or Marie. Or bigger things to worry about.” He lit it.

“Oh. ...I thought you didn’t smoke in class?”

“I don’t.” he responded, taking a drag. “I won’t let you avoid the subject. We’re talking about this.”

“But why!?” Spirit whined, pushing away the chair to pace. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Apparently you do, or you wouldn’t be here.” Stein watched him move back and forth, lifting himself to sit on the edge of the desk.

Death Scythe stopped and sighed. The room was cold, air-conditioned with expectation it would be crammed with students. Stein didn’t seem to mind. “Hmf. I guess you’re right.”

“Sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

Spirit pulled the stitched-chair to about four feet in front of his former partner and plopped down. It took him a minute to muster words. “...You’re in love with me.”

“Used to be.”

“Not anymore?”

“You _did_  switch meisters without a warning and I didn’t see you for years. You’re a good man, but not _that_ good.”

“You were performing unnecessary surgery on me in my sleep!”

“I thought you were fascinating. Still are.”

“That doesn’t give you the right-!”

“-It wasn’t a right, it was an opportunity. It was wrong, and I apologize, but I know I wouldn’t change it. It’s just who I am.”

The weapon shifted, unsure of how to respond. “This is awkward.”

“Not for me.”

“Lucky.”

Stein scoffed. “I don’t care. It was a crush, no big deal. I got over this a long time ago. You’re the one having the emotional breakdown over it. You just now figured that out?”

“No! Of course I knew!”

“No, you didn’t.” the scientist called matter-of-factly, blowing smoke-skulls.

“I had no clue.” the death scythe conceded.

Stein grinned, slowly, closed-lipped and with failing restraint, smothering a chuckle in his throat. Spirit couldn’t help but laugh, too, when his eyes lit up like that. “You are _impossibly_ dense.”

“Impossible, eh?” Spirit joked. “It must be possible, here I am.”

“Yeah, you got me the-”

Franken cut himself off, emotion faded again, and stared, incredulously, letting his cigarette burn down to the filter in his hand. He looked like he did when he was poking at some dead creature- trying to understand and reduce it to mechanics. Spirit was suddenly very uncomfortable under those eyes. He was a piece of meat, laid vulnerably on the operating table again. “...Stein? You okay?”

“It _is_ impossible.”

Death Scythe, in his unending wit, responded “Huh?”

“No one’s that dense, especially not you, Senpai. No, you didn’t notice because you didn’t want to notice. As much as you want someone to care for you, you don’t feel like you deserve it. You push people away- me, Kami, Maka. That’s why you womanize; it gives you the illusion of love while driving away the people who genuinely care about you.”

The silence hung over a satisfied Stein and dumbfounded Spirit, until it became uncomfortable (for one of them, at least). “...I, uh, I... Wow.”

Stein snuffed his cigarette in the otherwise empty ashtray on his desk. He had pity in his eyes, concern, but hid them behind thick glasses. “Wanting contact isn’t selfish, Spirit. It’s human. Took me a long time to realize that.”

The weapon was so busy with his psychological crisis, he didn’t notice that Stein used his _name_ , devoid of any honorifics. He stood from the chair (too antsy) and scratched the back of his neck. “...I want to be happy, Stein.” he admitted.

“Look at me.”

He did.

“This is me, giving you permission to be happy.”

And that did it. Maybe it was gratitude for figuring it out, or manning up for him, or just a long-buried desire to hear that, but that was it. Spirit kissed him, there, in the classroom, while Stein (having never done this before) sat on his desk and wondered what to do with his hands as they currently clung to each other in his lap. Stein tasted like smoke. He smelled like chemicals. He felt like drugs, disconnecting Death Scythe from the world and blurring reality into nothing but this, until he turned his head and broke away.

“Spirit...” He sounded exasperate, slipping into teacher-lecture mode. His senior was having none of that.

“Do you still feel the same as you used to?”

Franken was having trouble with the word “feel”, as he pushed his thick glasses up his nose. He didn’t need glasses that thick; he just liked hiding behind them. “Even if I didn’t, I would again after that.”

“Good. Because I’m allowed to be happy, right? This is my happiness.”


End file.
